Ever have one of those self-epiphonial moments where you realize you are going about things the wrong way? You stumble through the day to day events that make life, well life. Wondering how you got where you are. Not in a "Where's Waldo" kind of way but in a more surrealist way. Your emotional state of current being, not where your rump rests as Pumba would say. I recollect every move I have made; the good, the bad and certainly the ugly. They say bad decisions make good stories, and I could certainly put together an entire encyclopedia at the this point based solely on the bad decisions I have made over the course of my lifetime.
I never have done anything out of malice, or spite. Well ok, may a little spite now and again, I mean we were all teenagers once weren't we? I have done what I thought to be right, to be just. Maybe I never did that the conventional way, but I tried nonetheless.
I have had my share of heartaches, and I know I have unintentionally caused quite a few in my day. I was young then, and those who made it past the 1 year mark were few and far between. It was almost like an alarm would sound internally and I knew their time was up. Almost always 1 year; no more, some less. A strange timeline but it seemed how it ended up, time after time.
And now I am Chuck. Like that fictional character of the Silver Screen, whomever I touch turns to gold...in the sense that 98% of my ex-boyfriend population has either married or is still with whomever they were with immediately after me. Like I awakened some senses inside of them and they realized that they were ready to settle down...just not with me.
And mostly I am ok with this phenomenon, because well, I did most of the breaking up. I had the begging to take them back thing happening a lot of the time. And though I am in good standing with these men now, and some even their wives, now at 30 I am saddened by it. Happy for them sure, but sad for myself.
I don't miss them per say, I miss being loved in such a way that someone wanted to be with me forever, even if only a dream. Miss knowing that someone was thinking about you when you weren't around. Miss being missed. Being longed for, wanted. Knowing that somewhere someone wanted nothing more than to be sitting idly with me, doing mundane things, or experiencing new things together. And moreover miss that being reciprocated.
I don't intend to jump into things sometimes, I don't try to attach my mind to certain people, places or times, but that overwhelming sense of inevitable future impedes me. You find like you did in high school, imagining your name paired with a variety of last names from potential daters or crushes. Imagine where you would live if already not in the same general area. Who would sacrifice what? Think of how my son would be affected, or them if they had kids already too. And then imagine the end of it, as it seemed to always come. The arguments over silly things, the who is sleeping on the couch tonight. Think of the contempt you would have if they hurt your child in anyway, or treated them different from their own if that were the case. You imagine them perhaps wanting a child if you didn't. The stress.
Then you blockade your emotions, your feelings. You hide under a blanket of cynicism and a blasé and callous view of relationships. You self sabotage. Turn everything into something that is only physical, if at all. It’s easier. You don't let yourself get attached...at least in theory. Fear of the unknown is a powerful thing.
I see myself doing this, before anything gets to anything, and I know its poisonous. I know it is a snake in the grass, ready to strike my psyche, and yet I do nothing to change it, to stop it from happening. Easier to imagine the hypothetical disasters that may never come than to experience something that may be wonderful and then leave me the one hurting. It's a vicious cycle.
Admittedly the first step is acknowledgment of such a twisted defense mechanism. But now what? Where to go from here? How to remind yourself that once upon a time you were a great catch? That you were longed for and adored? That people tell you you’re a great person? How do you believe them? Let yourself become the inner goddess you know that you may essentially be?
For now you let your imagination run rampant. Constantly worried about what someone else may be thinking. But why? You used to be carefree about such matters. Other people's opinions of you made you scoff, a don't give a rats ass attitude.
Perhaps therein lied my appeal. The ungettable get. Never the over thinker, never the self-conscious woman you have become. Cool, calm and confident.
Perhaps it’s time to mow that grass so when the snake tries to strike, I can move more adeptly through. Clear the path, and walk ahead. Completely aware of my surroundings, and with an air of alertness and prowess.
Perhaps I will be the one ready to strike. Armed with self-awareness and the strongest desire to not repeat my mistakes.
Maybe my time is now.
And now I am Chuck. Like that fictional character of the Silver Screen, whomever I touch turns to gold...in the sense that 98% of my ex-boyfriend population has either married or is still with whomever they were with immediately after me. Like I awakened some senses inside of them and they realized that they were ready to settle down...just not with me.
And mostly I am ok with this phenomenon, because well, I did most of the breaking up. I had the begging to take them back thing happening a lot of the time. And though I am in good standing with these men now, and some even their wives, now at 30 I am saddened by it. Happy for them sure, but sad for myself.
I don't miss them per say, I miss being loved in such a way that someone wanted to be with me forever, even if only a dream. Miss knowing that someone was thinking about you when you weren't around. Miss being missed. Being longed for, wanted. Knowing that somewhere someone wanted nothing more than to be sitting idly with me, doing mundane things, or experiencing new things together. And moreover miss that being reciprocated.
I don't intend to jump into things sometimes, I don't try to attach my mind to certain people, places or times, but that overwhelming sense of inevitable future impedes me. You find like you did in high school, imagining your name paired with a variety of last names from potential daters or crushes. Imagine where you would live if already not in the same general area. Who would sacrifice what? Think of how my son would be affected, or them if they had kids already too. And then imagine the end of it, as it seemed to always come. The arguments over silly things, the who is sleeping on the couch tonight. Think of the contempt you would have if they hurt your child in anyway, or treated them different from their own if that were the case. You imagine them perhaps wanting a child if you didn't. The stress.
Then you blockade your emotions, your feelings. You hide under a blanket of cynicism and a blasé and callous view of relationships. You self sabotage. Turn everything into something that is only physical, if at all. It’s easier. You don't let yourself get attached...at least in theory. Fear of the unknown is a powerful thing.
I see myself doing this, before anything gets to anything, and I know its poisonous. I know it is a snake in the grass, ready to strike my psyche, and yet I do nothing to change it, to stop it from happening. Easier to imagine the hypothetical disasters that may never come than to experience something that may be wonderful and then leave me the one hurting. It's a vicious cycle.
Admittedly the first step is acknowledgment of such a twisted defense mechanism. But now what? Where to go from here? How to remind yourself that once upon a time you were a great catch? That you were longed for and adored? That people tell you you’re a great person? How do you believe them? Let yourself become the inner goddess you know that you may essentially be?
For now you let your imagination run rampant. Constantly worried about what someone else may be thinking. But why? You used to be carefree about such matters. Other people's opinions of you made you scoff, a don't give a rats ass attitude.
Perhaps therein lied my appeal. The ungettable get. Never the over thinker, never the self-conscious woman you have become. Cool, calm and confident.
Perhaps it’s time to mow that grass so when the snake tries to strike, I can move more adeptly through. Clear the path, and walk ahead. Completely aware of my surroundings, and with an air of alertness and prowess.
Perhaps I will be the one ready to strike. Armed with self-awareness and the strongest desire to not repeat my mistakes.
Maybe my time is now.
It is
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